


Gas n Sip: Coda for 9.3 I'm No Angel

by Squeevening



Category: Supernatural
Genre: #SPNSugar, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-05 00:51:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16357442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeevening/pseuds/Squeevening
Summary: Coda for I'm No Angel 9.3, after Dean kicks Castiel out of the bunker.Shoutout to  TeamFreeWill12 for noticing it's still Zeke, not Gadreel at this point. <3





	Gas n Sip: Coda for 9.3 I'm No Angel

Dean stared at his phone, the message waiting for him to press send. What could he possibly say to make what he had done alright? He groaned softly to himself, glanced up at his locked bedroom door one more time. _Fucker couldn’t read minds from a distance, right?_

He pressed send.

Castiel’s phone vibrated in his jeans, startling the bejeezus out of him where he lay on his back on the hard tile floor, staring at the glowing red exit sign of the back room of the Gas N Sip and replaying the horror of the fall over and over in his mind’s eye. He couldn’t seem to stop, so he’d just given up and let it roll, wincing each time he felt the agony of his wings burning.

He reached an arm out of his sleeping bag and snaked a hand into his little stack of carefully folded clothes, reaching for the buzzing phone. He flipped it open. There was a message from Dean. His lips formed a straight line as he clicked it open; Dean was the last person on earth he felt like talking to right now, but it could be important.

_“Cas I’m so sorry. It’s just not safe to have you here right now. I feel like such an asshole.”_

Castiel snorted and shook his head, frowning. Yes, that was the word he wanted. _Asshole_ . Dean was an _asshole_ . He set the phone on top of his stack of clothes and pulled his arm back inside the sleeping bag. His back hurt but at least he was warm since he’d bought this bag for sleeping. He thought about Dean telling him he couldn’t stay, how that had hurt in a completely different way than his wings burning, more in his chest and stomach and not at all in his wings, which were gone now anyway, with his grace. He turned onto his side, looking for a more comfortable position, set his phone on the floor and pulled his stack of clothes under his head as a makeshift pillow. _Yes, that’s a little better_.

The phone vibrated again. He rolled his eyes and reached for it.

_“I wouldn’t forgive me either.”_

Oh for the love of Dad. Castiel examined the tangle of human emotions tumbling through his chest. Anger. Sadness. Betrayal. A strong urge to let Dean stew in his correct realization that he was an _asshole_ and not to speak to him. A stronger urge to hear Dean’s voice telling him everything would be alright. He sighed heavily and thumbed open Dean’s number, let the number dial.

“Cas?” Dean sounded worried, and sad.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas I’m sorry. It’s just not safe - “

“I don’t want to talk about it. ”

A silence stretched between them, tense and unhappy.

Finally Castiel spoke. “I think this was a mistake. I’m going to hang up now - “

“No! Wait, not yet!” Dean’s voice was pleading, urgent, and Castiel sighed heavily.

“What is it Dean? What could there possibly be left to say right now?”

“I want to… I want to say good night, Cas.” Dean’s voice was husky, heavy with the emotion of all the words that wouldn’t come, and the pain in Castiel’s chest eased just a fraction.

_Enough. It would have to be enough._

“Good night, Dean.” Castiel’s voice was soft, the undercurrent of anger that had been lacing his voice replaced with resignation and wistfulness.

“Good night, Cas,” Dean whispered, and then the line went dead. He stared at his phone, his eyes burning and his chest tight. _Fucking Zeke._ He’d find a way to make this up to Cas. _He had to._

Castiel flipped his phone shut and set it back down on the floor. He stared at the exit sign and now it was flames, the sounds of battle loud in his mind as he fought his way to rescue Dean from the pit. Dean, _the asshole_ . He sighed, and replayed their brief conversation over in his head, especially Dean saying good night. _Dean was sorry. Dean was an asshole, but he was sorry, and he wanted to say good night._

Castiel shut his eyes.

Everything was going to be alright.

  
***


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